Young Blood
by BurntBreadAndShinyPearls
Summary: In a Panem where kids are picked to be experimented on, Peeta Mellark turns out to be President Snow's most powerful experiment. When talk of rebellion sparks, the President is determined to use Peeta to his advantage, with leverage coming from his childhood crush. Panem AU. Variation of Spiderman!Peeta. Everlark.
1. Chapter 1

_A/n: This is really different for me, so give it a chance._

_If some of this doesn't make sense, or you feel like you're missing something, then just hold on and wait for the upcoming chapters! It'll all make more sense, especially next chapter once Peeta begins to learn more._

_This is a twist on hijacked!Peeta mixed with spiderman!Peeta._

_This will also be an Everlark fic, so don't worry!_

_SPECIAL THANKS TO: wolfpatronusteampeeta-and-dean FOR BEING SO SUPPORTIVE AND HELPFUL AS I DEVELOPED THIS STORY!_

_Peter Parker once said:_ _"__Not everyone is meant to make a difference. But for me, the choice to lead an ordinary life is no longer an option."_

* * *

President Coriolanus Snow was a man with a plan. He had a vision of a race that was powerful, strong and unique. A race of humans that would not fall or succumb to war. A race that was unlike anything the nation had ever seen.

Like Finnick Odair, a man with deadly accuracy. Or Johanna Mason, a woman with no fear.

The nation would never experience the Dark Days, where man fought. The Capitol would make the Districts fear its power that no human stood a chance against.

Every year, the man himself would hand pick a suitable, able bodied teenager or two. The picking brought great wealth to the family, only in exchange for the teen he desired. _The Reaping_, the kids would call it. No one knew who's district would be chosen to be picked from, but some figured it out with the absence of the _lucky_ experiment.

It was unheard of for a family to decline the President's offer. In a world where money was scarce, families wouldn't dare refuse even the slightest bit.

On the seventy-fifth year since the first uprising, kids waited anxiously. It was unknown which District would be chosen that year, though most assumed it would be One, Two, or Four, which had the healthiest and strongest kids.

But that year held surprise. The coal mining District was brought into light.

And on that seventy-fifth year, after a year of careful consideration, it was Peeta Mellark, hailing from District Twelve.

* * *

He stood up from the table, not recognizing the people who sat before him. They raised him his whole life, they were his parents. But certainly his parents would not send him off to the Capitol to become some experiment. He shouted words at them, he cried, too.

His father looked regretful. His mother was indifferent.

"He's the President-"

"And I'm your son!"

His mother sat up and her tone was as harsh as the cold winds. "And how do you expect us to survive the winter without this money, Peeta?"

The disbelief in him paralyzed his speech and he turned on his heel, running to his room and locking the door.

He cried again for himself.

He heard stories. About how the kids never made it, because they had died. Sometimes they were forced to stay in the Capitol – those were the strong kids, whose experiments had succeeded. They were celebrated and their abilities were broadcasted to the Districts. He tried to remember stories about kids from District Twelve, but his district hadn't been picked from in many years. The kids were too weak.

Why was he so different?

* * *

Peeta didn't say goodbye to his family.

The Peacekeepers came in the midst of the night, knocking on the door and ordering him to come with them. He wasn't allowed to bring any of his own belongings, so he left with just the clothes on his body and a wool jacket.

He looked over his shoulder, watching as his two brothers and father stood in the open door. He didn't smile or wave. They didn't deserve it.

The night was chilly, and the cold wind was fiercely cutting through the thin materials of his clothing, making his muscles contract with shivers. Up ahead, he saw a waiting train, sleek and shiny. Nothing stayed shiny in District Twelve, and he concluded the train was Capitol made and bound.

He hesitated on the steps that lead up the train. He'd admit that he was scared – terrified to be leaving the only place he had ever called home, and going off to a foreign place with people and customs that he didn't know.

Peeta wasn't good with unfamiliarity.

One time, in the second grade, Delly Cartwright dared him to walk through the Seam by himself. He remembered that he wasn't scared of the Seam, but he was scared because it was so different to him. He felt disoriented.

And that was a feeling he hated.

The memory vanished as a rough shove came from behind. He gulped in a deep breath of cold air that made his lungs burn and he stepped into the train. He wasn't sure what he expected a train to be like, but it certainly wasn't as luxurious as what was before him.

Deep red velvet carpeting; it reminded him of the spongey red velvet cake they made at the bakery. Food on every table – made out of a polished mahogany. Dark brown leather chairs that looked as inviting as a warm cup of hot cocoa on a cold day.

He turned around to find that he was alone in the train compartment.

He took a seat on one of the leather chairs, looking out the window as the dark forests flashed by quickly.

Soon enough, the trees faded into opens field and he was forced to say goodbye to his home.

* * *

Peeta stepped through the heavy oak doors into a large room, and the President of Panem, sat in the middle behind a desk. Peeta swallowed thickly. President Snow's eyes scanned him, a slow grin that made Peeta's stomach twist, spread across his wrinkled face.

"Peeta Mellark," he said, rising from his chair and holding out his gloved hand. "Pleasure to meet you. How was the ride in? Was everything satisfying? Please do be honest."

Peeta warily took his hand and shook it once before taking it back. "Mr. Snow...it's an honour," he lied. "Everything was...amazing, Sir."

His eyes bore into Peeta, as if reading his real thoughts. But he didn't say much more, instead he reached for a glass bottle that held a dark red liquid. "Would you like some wine? Only the best in the Capitol."

Peeta forced a smile that felt more like a grimace. "No, thank you."

"Now I assume we can skip pleasantries, Mr. Mellark. You must know why you're here," President Snow said, he clucked his tongue and sipped on the red liquid. "And as much as I'd like to talk, we have other matters."

"By other matters I assume you mean experimenting?"

President Snow stopped lifting the glass to his lips and watched Peeta for a moment, a tenacious look in his eyes. "Not so shy, are you?"

"Well, we both know why I am here, so why dance around the subject?"

"Very well. I'll have you set up in a room until we are ready to begin."

Snow nodded at the Peacekeepers beside Peeta, and they roughly grabbed his arms and escorted him out of the room. Peeta would've thought they were supposed to show more respect to a boy, who was fuelling the President's needs.

* * *

The room that the President had mentioned was not a room at all. It was like a glorified prison. White walls, brick flooring. There was a small cot in the corner, across from it was a metal chair that made Peeta's blood run cold.

He forgot about everything, venturing over to the chair. Cuffs were on each arm of the chair, his eyes started to water at the image of him being strapped down in the chair. He didn't want them to change him. He wanted to be Peeta Mellark, a normal kid.

Not some creation of the Capitol.

He backed away from the chair as far as he could, until his foot bumped into the leg of the cot. There was a stack of neatly folded clothes. He examined the pile; black shirt, black pants, black boots, black socks, and black underwear.

His thinned and worn clothes looked ill in comparison.

He threw his old clothes off in the corner. They were from home, and the more he forgot about home, the easier it would be to accept that he was, in fact, no longer there. Regret trickled in him, for not saying a proper goodbye to his family.

But what was done, was done.

He was no longer at home. Soon he would no longer be a normal kid.

He was no longer going to live an ordinary life.

* * *

It all happened so fast.

One minute he was in a dreamless sleep, the next he was being woken. And it wasn't too pleasant either. Two men dressed in dark clothing shook him awake and escorted him to the chair.

Snow was waiting at the door to his room, watching with no expression on his face. In fact, he looked a little menacing, Peeta noted. Gone was the fake smile and courtesy. Replaced with determination fuelled by evil.

Peeta felt shivers run up his spine, though they weren't only from the cool metal of the chair against his skin. Metal cuffs were clasped around his wrists and ankles.

"I didn't think we were starting so soon," Peeta gritted out, fighting against the cuffs.

Snow's smile was ugly and none too flattering. "I just couldn't wait."

The two men, who woke Peeta, walked over to Snow and he muttered something to them. They nodded and left the room, the door sliding shut behind them. Snow came closer to Peeta, his hands behind his back.

"Now, Mr. Mellark, will you be cooperating, or will I have to sedate you? It would be easier for the both of us if you cooperate. What do you say?"

Peeta bit down on his cheek. He knew he had to cooperate. So, begrudgingly, he nodded slowly. "I'll cooperate."

"Wonderful," he said, just as the door slid open and in came a woman. Her hair was grey and lifeless, just like her eyes. She was every bit as intimidating – if not more – than President Snow. "Ah, Mr. Mellark, I'd like you to meet Alma Coin."

"I'd shake your hand..." Peeta started, knowing he shouldn't. But he didn't care. "But I'm a little tied down at the moment."

Alma Coin raised a thin eyebrow at him, her lips pursed with distaste. She eyed him for another moment, before sighing with indifference. "Charming."

Peeta got the impression that his sarcasm was not be appreciated by her.

"Did you get the serum?" Snow asked, turning to the woman with expectant eyes.

"_Yes, _I did, Coriolanus." Her eyes lit up for a moment, then she moved closer to the President and lowered her voice. "Will he be enough to pacify Thirteen?"

"Thirteen will fear him," he said with slight ire, his eyes darkening.

They stood there, sharing a look, before Snow cleared his throat, looking back down at Peeta.

Thirteen? What was that? Why will they fear him?

"The speed...flexibility...of a _spider_," Snow said, his dark eyes lighting up in a way that was similar to Alma's. The snake-like eyes flickered over to Peeta, the green orbs sizing him up. "Imagine...imagine a being with the abilities of those of a spider, Alma."

Alma Coin nodded beside him, an evil smile spreading across her thin lips. Peeta liked it better when she didn't smile. He could only watch as they held a syringe with that contained a liquid of odd colour between them.

"He's already a strong boy - the serum will make him nearly inhumanly powerful."

"What the hell is that?" Peeta spat out, finally finding his voice. He hadn't realized how scared he was, until he took notice of his shaking hands.

Snow only smiled and held up the syringe as he moved to Peeta's side. Peeta tried to move away, but the cuffs held him down. Why did he cooperate? Why did his parents agree to this? Why him?

And as the needle went in his arm, Snow spoke in a voice that made shivers run up his spine again.

"You may feel nauseous, Mr. Mellark. Drowsiness is a possibility, too."

A chuckle followed.

And Peeta felt his eyelids drop, his world falling to darkness.

* * *

"It _worked_, sir. The boy accepted the serum," a hushed voice came from somewhere in the room. Peeta couldn't open his eyes, but he was glad. His mind was too muddled.

"He's so strong." Came Snow's voice through the haze. It was dismissive, yet awestruck. "He has to be contained for now."

"But, sir, his family is expecting answers. They expect him to come home, like you told them." The voice was small. "And, with all due respect...I assumed that you wanted him to be the strongest."

"Of course I told them that," Snow said, as if the owner of the other voice was dumb. "He's dead...that is what you'll tell them. Are you done wasting my time, Dr. Aurelius?"

There was a murmur in response, then the sound of a door sealing shut. Peeta waited minutes to be sure he was alone, before opening his eyes.

His vision adjusted quickly, everything going into focus as soon as he blinked. Everything he saw had a sharpness to it.

How had so much changed? He didn't feel different, but he _knew_. He knew they did something to him...he was no longer an ordinary boy. The blood that ran through his veins felt electrified.

He felt like a foreigner in his own body.

"Welcome back, Mr. Mellark," Snow said from a corner of the room, startling him.

Peeta slowly pushed himself up, looking down at his wrists that were no longer cuffed. They were red and caked with dried blood. The pain was minimal, though he couldn't remember how he hurt them in the first place.

"What happened to my wrists?" He asked hoarsely.

"You..._reacted _rather violently to the serum at first."

Peeta met his eyes. "It worked, though? Now I'm just another addition to the freak show?"

Snow smiled maliciously. "It's a shame you would think so little of yourself, Mr. Mellark."

Peeta stayed quiet. He had nothing to say. Did Snow want him to be grateful? He certainly wasn't grateful to be taken from his home, brought to the Capitol, and experimented on. He was _human_, not same lab rat.

Then again, he had to assume he wasn't so human anymore.

"Join me on a walk," Snow said, and Peeta felt compelled to listen to him, even though he didn't want to. He wasn't sure what was going on, all he knew was that he didn't like it.

They exited his room, continuing down the corridor. Something pricked at the back of Peeta's mind, an alert, and he looked over his shoulder, noticing the Peacekeeper that followed them from a distance.

The corridor opened into a outdoor courtyard with rose bushes, benches, and a fountain. It was so nice, so deceiving. Peeta felt sick.

"We have plenty of facilities here for you, Peeta. I'm sure you'll be fine for the time being," Snow said, smiling that ugly smile that made Peeta feel nauseous.

"Time being? Until what?" Peeta gritted out. He tried to not sound so angry and irritated, but it was hard not to.

"Well," Snow said, coming to a stop and giving a laugh. "Until I figure out how to...contain you for now."

"_Contain me_? What the hell do you mean?"

Snow met his gaze, the humour gone from his eyes. "You better watch how you speak to me, Mr. Mellark." The doors across the courtyard opened and Snow's face lit back up into a sickening smile.

And when Peeta followed his gaze, his heart almost stopped.

"Our newest experiment," Snow said with the cluck of his tongue. "Katniss Everdeen."

Katniss stopped in her place, the Peacekeepers had to urge her forward by grabbing her arms. Peeta watched as recognition took control of her features, though it wasn't a gleeful expression. It was filled with sorrow.

He felt his hands clench into tight fists, because she shouldn't be there. This is the last place where he'd want to see Katniss Everdeen. In fact, he'd rather never see her again if it meant that she didn't have to be there.

Snow didn't have to change her. She was perfect already.

"Oh, well, it looks as if you two know each other. How lovely," Snow said, speaking with casualty, as if he really didn't know that they knew each other. _Everyone _in District Twelve knew each other. And Peeta wondered if her being chosen was just an unlucky coincidence or not.

"What are you doing to her?" Peeta asked in a harsh whisper, lifting his eyes up to the President.

"Don't be silly, Mr. Mellark, I would never tell you such a thing," he said simply, then a wicked grin stretched across his pale, cracked lips. "I do find it rather..._endearing_ that you care so deeply."

The President beckoned the Peacekeepers over. Katniss' lips pursed into a straight line and she moved forward, her stride stoic. Peeta, deep down, admired her strength. Maybe he even envied it, too.

"Welcome to the Capitol, Miss Everdeen." Katniss didn't respond, though she met the President's icy gaze defiantly. "I'm sure you must know him. Peeta Mellark," he said, gesturing to Peeta.

Peeta held out his hand. He never had spoken to Katniss Everdeen in his life, so really, their introduction was much needed. Katniss grasped his hand firmly, shaking it, and he wasn't sure what compelled him to do it, but he did.

He gave a gentle squeeze.

"I do."

"Show Miss Everdeen to her room," Snow told the Peacekeepers.

They took her arms again and continued past them, to the corridor where Peeta and Snow had just been. Peeta felt his hands shake at his sides as he clenched them tightly.

Not Katniss Everdeen.

"What are you going to do to her?" Peeta asked again, facing Snow.

Snow chuckled under his breath and shrugged simply. An indescribable anger coursed through Peeta. He never felt anger like that in his whole life. It consumed him and his whole body began to hum with ire.

"You're sick," Peeta spat out, stepping closer and raising his hands. But before he could even touch the President, hands grabbed his arms and yanked him back. "You're a sick bastard!"

He fought against the hands, grabbing one and flipping the body over his shoulder. The Peacekeeper hit the ground in front of him with a thud. His chest heaved and his breaths were laboured.

"I will not be apart of your _sick_ _little_ _game!_"

President Snow stood there, with no fear.

"Would you like to make a bet, Mr. Mellark?"

There was a pinch in Peeta's neck, and the world, once again, went black.

* * *

Peeta woke with his face pressed against a cold, concrete floor. The room smelled like...rubber and disinfectant. He raised his head, his eyes quickly scanning the room. For what?

_For threats, _a voice in his head said.

His wrists were healed, only redness and white-patch scars on the inner side of his wrists were noticeable. The patches on his wrists were odd scars and he gingerly touched them. _Weird._

"Mr. Mellark, I'm glad you're finally awake." He lifted his eyes up until they came across a balcony that looked over the big room that he'd never seen before. "I suggest you stand up. I'd like to see how you do all on your own."

"On my own? Wha-?"

A door opened across the room, a group of men dressed in black came out. Some had weapons like knives or batons, others just had their fists as weapons.

"What am I supposed to do?" He shouted.

Snow tilted his head, amused. "Use your instincts."

And then one of the men moved.

The first one to charge at him was the man with a tiny knife in his hand.

Peeta felt his eyes scan the man, his body stiffening into a fighting stance. The blood was boiling in his veins. His arm stretched out, and then to his surprise, a white, stringy fibre that looked like spun silver, shot out from the tiny white patch on his wrist and hit the ceiling.

"What the..." Peeta stared down at his wrist.

_Abilities of a spider..._

He swallowed thickly. Was he dreaming? A web did not just shoot out from his wrist, did it?

The man was getting closer, so he raised his hand and bent his fingers. Again, a white fibre shot from his wrist. It latched around the knife. Quickly, he pulled the knife from the man and brought it into his own hands.

_Fight. Protect. Fight. Protect._ The two words were a mantra in his head. He didn't know where they came from, but they were loud and clear. He tried to block them out. It was failing, though, because he felt his teeth clench and his mood shift.

He felt different.

The man got closer, his grip tightened on the handle of the knife as he pulled his arm back, and then threw it. It spun it the air until it was embedded in the man's neck, causing him to fall to the ground. Blood slowly trickled from where the knife was lodged in his neck.

Peeta wanted to run away. He wanted to run as far as he could. He didn't want to hurt anyone. But they all posed a threat and – for the life of him – he couldn't stop. Until it was safe.

_Fight. Protect._

The second man came running, and Peeta wrapped a web around him, then delivered a swift, knocking blow to his jaw that had a crushing sound to it. The man dropped to the floor.

He didn't know how he was using the webs that shot from his wrists, but it oddly felt like second nature.

Peeta's hand shook as he continued on. Man after man, they all fell to the ground. It wasn't until the last man dropped, when Peeta lassoed the stringy fibre around his neck and pulled tight until his face was blue, that he felt utterly sick.

He fell to the cold floor, his face sweating and his chest heaving. His hand rested in a pool of blood, and when he brought it up, his hands shook as the rich red liquid dripped onto him.

He tried to scramble away, but his limbs were jelly, and he barely made it a foot away before he started to retch. The contents of his stomach emptied out on the floor.

The mantra left his head, along with the need to protect himself. It left him feeling weak and vulnerable and scared. He stared at the men on the floor, horrified of what he had done.

He was an actual monster.

A slow clap came from above, and Peeta weakly lifted his head.

"Oh, Mr. Mellark. You are going to be a wonderful asset to the Capitol."

"Asset?" He echoed, but then his eyes left Snow and his gut twisted painfully.

Peeta didn't see Snow anymore. He saw who stood behind him.

Katniss Everdeen.

And she looked utterly terrified.

* * *

_a/n: Okay, so like I said, this is my Panem AU with a variation of spiderman, rebellion, and (of course) Everlark. It's also a twist on hijacked!Peeta. I don't know how to explain it, but you'll have to keep reading if you want to learn more!_

_This is a really different take on an Everlark story for me, so I hope you'll all enjoy it and think it's good._

_If you have any comments, concerns, or just want to talk, PM me/ review / or find me on tumblr (peetamellaark)!_

ALSO, thanks to shininalltheway for making the cover for this story!


	2. Chapter 2

Peeta's only freedom was that he could leave his room from eight o'clock in the morning until nine o'clock at night. He was allowed to wander in the courtyard and use the training room, where he had taken out the group of men few days before.

He shoved his hands in his pockets to quell their shaking. They started to shake a lot after whatever Snow and Coin had done to him. Sometimes they didn't shake, though, and he loved those moments.

He was different. He noticed it in the way he walked, in his overactive senses, and in his eyes. His eyes weren't _just blue _anymore. They were a glowing blue, as if they were being lit up with electricity. They looked so inhumane that he started to hate looking at himself in the mirror.

The doors of the training room slid open in front of him and he noticed mats and training equipment were set out. He paused in the doorway once he took notice of Katniss across the room. She was holding a bow, aiming at a target.

Peeta ducked his head and shuffled over to the ropes that hung from the ceiling. He jumped up and grabbed one rope, pulling himself up. He was somewhat strong before, but after the serum his strength seemed to double. He would be honest; he felt a little invincible.

He climbed up the coarse rope until he reached the metal rafters of the ceiling, and he shifted up onto one of the beams. He was perched at the top, looking down, specifically at Katniss. She never missed a target. They were all right in the centre, too.

Snow didn't change that. She was always that good. His father used to buy her squirrels, and they were always shot right through the eye. She was the best illegal hunter out there.

After a while, she seemed to get bored and set the metal bow down on the rack. She looked around the room before he heard her sigh and make her way to the doors. They slid open and she slipped out, leaving him alone.

He wondered if she felt as lonely as he did.

And then once Peeta was sure she wasn't coming back, he shot a web at the beam across from him and swung himself down. It was the first time he'd done that, and it was exhilarating. The rush he got was enough to encourage him to try other things with his webs.

He started running toward the far wall, and when he was close enough, he leaped and pushed off the wall, flicking his wrist to get the web to shoot from it. It caught onto a beam and he swung his body, his feet not touching the floor.

But then the fibre broke at his wrist and Peeta hit the floor with a thud.

"Shit," he mumbled, his cheek pressed against the floor. He laughed at himself. It was so stupid to think he could even do anything with what Snow did to him.

So, he picked himself back up and decided that maybe it was best if he stayed in his room.

* * *

There wasn't much to do in his room, so Peeta stared at the white ceiling, wondering about his family. About Katniss and why she was there. He wondered what Snow meant when he said he'd be a great asset to the Capitol.

He realized that he was thinking a lot about his family. Part of him ached for a lump of freshly made dough to sculpt and bake. Or even a piping bag, filled with yellow frosting to decorate the cookies.

He was just envisioning of how they would taste...

The door to his room slid open, and a man in black stood there. He nodded at Peeta and motioned for him to get up. Peeta knew better than to question it, so he stood and followed the Peacekeeper out the room. He was lead through the courtyard and into another corridor with an elevator at the end.

Riding up the elevator uneventful, though Peeta's nerves were hyperactive. Being summoned made him nervous. Hell, anything to do with Snow made him nervous.

The doors opened, revealing a room that reminded him of the train. There was food – tons of it – and rich furniture. Snow sat at the head of a long table, his smile was welcoming in a way that made Peeta's skin crawl.

"Mr. Mellark. Glad you could join me," he said, motioning to the empty seat across from him. "Take a seat."

Cautiously, Peeta took the open seat. He bit his tongue to refrain from saying something sarcastic. Servants poured a drink in his glass and he said a quiet thanks. He stared down at the drink for a long time, not meeting Snow's eyes.

Finally, the President spoke again, but Peeta preferred the silence instead when Katniss became the topic of their conversation.

"So, Mr. Mellark, it seems that you know Miss Everdeen. Are you two quite close?"

Peeta was hesitant to answer. Why did Snow care if they were close or not? Why was his relationship – that he didn't actually have – with Katniss important to him?

"District Twelve is very small. Of course I know her."

"Ah, yes. Now, Mr. Mellark, I know you're a smart boy. And I have an offer for you." Snow spun a glass of wine in his hands as he lifted his eyes to Peeta. It made Peeta want throw up. "Katniss Everdeen will stay safe, only if you agree to help me with something."

"Help you with _what_?"

"You're very charming...very strong. If, say, an uprising were to happen...would you agree to stand with the Capitol?"

Peeta felt his jaw go slack and his brows furrow. To speak or even think traitorous thoughts was forbidden. Why was the President asking him to stand with the Capitol? He was just a kid.

"Who would be rebelling?" He asked evenly.

"Bad people. People who want to take over Panem and change it for the worse." Snow met him with a levelled stare. "Would you?"

"Is there going to be an uprising?" He pressed. He'd like at least some of his questions answered.

"Mr. Mellark," Snow snapped, his nostrils flaring and eyes burning. "Would you, or would you not stand with Capitol?"

Peeta bit his cheek. If it meant Katniss would stay safe, then he would. It wasn't like there was an uprising anyway.

"I would. As long as Katniss stays safe."

Snow smiled, pleased, though he watched Peeta long after he gave his answer. His snake-like eyes narrowed as if he were analyzing him, his thoughts. His gloved reached out, and Peeta shook it firmly, meeting Snow with a steady gaze.

"It's a deal, Mr. Mellark."

* * *

"I know you're up there," Katniss spoke from the ground, her eyes still trained on the target in front of her. "It's getting weird now."

He wasn't thrilled to admit that he'd been hiding up in the rafter everyday, watching Katniss shoot at targets. It was a little creepy, but he wouldn't dare approach her. Not after seeing the look of horror on her face.

"Are you going to shoot me if I come down?"

Katniss lowered her bow and turned around, looking up at the rafters where he sat. "No? That'd be a waste of an arrow."

"Reassuring," Peeta said back and carefully swung himself down. From the corner of his eye, he saw Katniss watching him.

He didn't really imagine his first real conversation with Katniss Everdeen happening like that. But it was a start. Even if she hated and-or feared him. After all, she _was_ watching as he took out all of those men.

"I was just going anyways," Peeta spoke again, motioning to the door. He started walking, and just before he left, she called out after him.

"What did they do to you?"

Peeta looked over his shoulder, giving a wistful smile. "They changed me, Katniss."

He wanted to continue on out the door, leaving her with a mysterious line, but her eyes held him in place. They were curious, something that he had never seen before. He'd seen a lot of scowls, glares, and terror on her face. Very rarely, he saw her smile, too.

Never had he seen something other than those.

"Everyone back home thought you were dead."

Blunt. Katniss was very blunt and he kind of appreciated it. Maybe not right then, though.

"There was a ceremony," Katniss continued, not letting her gaze focus on him for long. "They put an empty box in the ground. Apparently your body was far too mangled to send back. I mean, that's what I overheard when I was in the Mayor's Mansion."

Peeta sucked in a deep breath, wondering how indecent a human the President was for doing that. Lying about his death? Why not just tell his family and District the truth?

"The line to pay respects was really long. Every citizen was in that line, you know."

He turned around fully, tilting his head a little. "Were...were, um, you?"

Something crossed her face, it was indistinguishable because it went as fast as it came. She brushed the tendrils of hair that escaped her braid behind her ear.

"I was," she replied. Then shifted on her feet. "I feel as if my goodbyes should be retracted. Seeing as you're alive and all."

Peeta looked down at his feet, shaking his head. "I may not be for long," he mumbled under his breath.

Looking up, Katniss looked at him with shock. She heard what he said, but she didn't comment. Instead, she remained silent. And with silence came awkwardness, so Peeta lifted his hand in a weak wave and left the room.

* * *

That night it happened, Peeta had barely been asleep for more than two hours. The lights in his room flicked on, and much like the first night, two men took him and cuffed him to the metal chair. Snow came in.

_Does this guy ever sleep? _Peeta wondered.

"I thought the experimenting was over."

Snow held another syringe in his hand, the liquid was clear. Peeta's throat went dry and he fought against the cuffs, though he knew it was futile and would only hurt him more in the end. But he wasn't thinking about that. He was thinking about how he wanted to get out of there.

"Mr. Mellark, I know you wouldn't dare lie to me...but your morals are much too good."

"What?" Peeta hissed, feeling sweat trickle down his face.

"You say you would stand with the Capitol, but when the times comes, Mr. Mellark, I need to make sure you keep your word." He tapped the syringe a few times, then held the tip of the needle against his arm. "I'm just taking necessary precautions."

"Is there an uprising? Why do you keep talking about it?"

Peeta felt the needle slide into his arm, the liquid spewing into his veins. His vision became fuzzy and the world around him started to twist and morph, becoming shiny. Snow was shining, his smile bright.

But Peeta knew Snow's smile wasn't that welcoming. So why did it look like it?

"Now, _Peeta_, you love the Capitol," he said slowly, his words echoing in Peeta's mind. "And you will fight for what you love. Any harm to come to the Capitol, you will stand by to serve. To _fight_. To _protect."_

_Fight. Protect. The Capitol._

Peeta's jaw clenched and he felt as if he was floating. Vaguely, he nodded.

"Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Mellark."

"Katniss," Peeta sputtered out through gritted teeth. "Our...deal."

Snow smiled. It was malicious. "You don't worry about that."

And Peeta could only watch as the President and the two men left. They undid the cuffs on him before they did, and Peeta felt his wrists throb. And his head did, too. He tried to stand, but his legs gave out beneath him, and he collapsed to the floor.

His fingers twitched a little, and his mind echoed Snow's words. Shakily, he brought his hands up to his ears and pressed hard against them.

"Shut up," he muttered. "_Shut up._"

And then he screamed until his throat was raw and the voice of Snow stopped echoing in his head. Once it was all over, he still remained on the floor. He stayed there all through the night.

His eyes finally started to close after many hours.

* * *

Slowly, Peeta blinked his eyes open. His head pounded as he looked up into the harsh light. His palms were bloody and had scabs the shape of his fingernails. As dry as a desert, his mouth started to water, and the water and bread he had the previous day made an appearance on the floor.

He pulled himself up to sit on his bed, dropping his head in his hands. His stomach churned uneasily, and he ached for home. He ached to be in the bakery, his hands caked in flour. He ached to be around his father and friends.

He wished he'd said goodbye, because he got the feeling he wouldn't be seeing them for a long time.

There was a tray of food on the stand by the door. Peeta dragged his feet as he made his way over to the tray, only picking up the cup of juice. He downed it and tossed the cup back on the tray, leaving the food and making his way out the door. He felt angry and scared and nervous.

When he walked into the training room, he didn't hide up in the rafters like he usually did. Instead, he went over to the punching dummy. His hand clenched into a fist and he shifted his weight onto his back leg and tried to psych himself up to give the first punch.

Peeta pretended the dummy was Snow.

He closed his eyes, breathed in deeply through his nose, and then let his hand fly. A slight searing pain surged through his hand and tingled in his wrist. But when he opened his eyes and pulled his fist away from the face of the dummy, there was a deep imprint in the semi-solid material.

Peeta looked down at his throbbing wrist; it was already bright red and swollen, promising a nice bruise and sprain. He clenched his jaw and shook his hand along with his head. He just wanted to wake up from whatever nightmare he was in.

He'd write as many Mathematics tests back home if it meant he were _home_.

He wanted to feel like himself.

He had only been in the Capitol for a few days and he was already losing his mind! How long would it take before he forgot who he really was? At the rate he was going at, it wouldn't be long.

"I'd hate to be that dummy."

The voice startled him, he'd been so lost in his thoughts that he didn't hear her approach. He didn't even realize it was Katniss until he jumped and turned around. But he wasn't sure who else it would've been, considering they were the only two there. His blood rushed to his head, his ears pounding. Why did he feel threatened for a split second?

Peeta tried to smile. "I would, too."

Her dark hair was pulled back in a nice braid like usual, a few strands framed her delicate face. Peeta hadn't seen her that close up for this long before, and he wondered why it took him so long to. She was absolutely enrapturing. The light freckles that painted her nose, the grey of her eyes, the slope of her neck.

She was a sight to see. And he drank in every feature of her.

Seeing her from afar the other day hadn't allowed him to really look at her.

"It's odd. We lived in Twelve our whole lives...and now we finally meet here. In the Capitol, of all places."

Peeta would like to think it was a sick twist of fate, but there was something in him that said Snow was really behind it. Somehow, he figured, Snow must've found out about his fixation on Katniss.

Snow wanted Peeta to cooperate with him for a reason that Peeta didn't know, though it made him shiver, and Katniss was the perfect thing to hold against him.

But what Peeta wanted to know, was more about the theoretical rebellion. He wanted to know why Snow needed him. He wanted answers, but he doubted he'd get them.

"A funny twist of fate," he said. He looked her over quickly, remembering how she asked him about what they had done to him. "Has- did President Snow do anything to you?"

Her eyes flickered around as if looking to see if someone was watching. "Are...are we allowed to talk about that?"

"I'm a freakin' Spiderboy. I think we're allowed to talk about it."

Katniss bit her lip and shrugged. "I don't really remember much, I was on something. But they did something to my hearing and my sight."

"He said he wouldn't-"

"Wouldn't what?"

"Change you," Peeta mumbled, his cheeks burning as Katniss met his eyes.

"Well...why else would I be here?"

Peeta had to look away from her calculating gaze. He knew Katniss was smart, and he didn't want her to find out about his deal with Snow. Even though Snow seemed to have already broken it.

The only positive thing he could find was that Katniss wasn't some spider-freak like him. She was still normal, just with better hearing and sight. Her blood was still human.

"Uh- I don't know. I guess I'm just being weird," Peeta sputtered out, rubbing his neck awkwardly. "Sorry."

Katniss still watched him carefully. "It's alright."

"Do you miss home?" He blurted, quick to change the subject.

Katniss shrugged and began walking to the door, and Peeta found himself following her. They walked down the corridor in silence for a bit, until they reached the courtyard and Katniss cleared her throat.

"Obviously," she said. "But...my mother and sister are much better off with the money. Knowing they have more than enough gets me through the day."

Peeta nodded and sat down at a bench by the fountain. Katniss sat down on the other end and looked up.

"Do you miss being outside? I'd do anything to breathe in some fresh air."

Peeta followed her gaze up to the glass roof. The sun shone through the glass, but he also ached to be outside. He missed the smell of District Twelve, oddly enough. He missed the cold wind. He missed the fire that would be crackling in the fireplace.

"Yeah. Lately, I've been feeling like I'm trapped in a box."

When he looked back down, he found Katniss already looking at him. Her lips twitched up in a weak, yearning smile. The corner of his lip curled up a little.

He decided that Katniss Everdeen was better than he ever imagined.

He liked that she didn't press him for details about what Snow did to him. He liked that she respected him like that, even though they've only just met. He also really liked the way he felt a little better around her.

"How's your wrist?" She asked, motioning to it.

Peeta studied it for a moment. It didn't hurt too bad anymore. It was a little sore and red, but nothing he couldn't handle. He had gotten worse injuries during Wrestling season back in Twelve.

"It's fine," he replied. "Thanks."

He flexed his fingers, wiggling them around a bit. Only a slight ache ran through his bones. He even made a point of making a fist, to show Katniss it was okay. When he lifted his eyes back to her, she was looking down at her lap.

"Are you alright?"

She stood and shrugged, then began walking away. "I'm going to go to my room for a bit. See you."

Peeta watched, dazed, as she disappeared into the corridor. His hand lifted in a weak wave, and he was feeling more and more alone with every second that passed. He realized Katniss made him feel better. And with her gone, he went back to how he really felt.

Scared. Confused. Alone.

Katniss was his best shot at remaining sane and _some_ part of the person he was just days ago. He kept his head hung low, and he got up and returned to his room. Lack of sleep from the night before made him pass out as soon as he rested his head on the pillow.

That night he dreamt about Katniss, Snow's puffy lips stretched into a smile, and the Capitol being engulfed in flames.

* * *

_A/N: Sorry for the long wait. I've been busy and experiencing slight writers block with this chapter...but the next chapter, things start to pick up._

_thank you to all of you for supporting me and waiting patiently! I hope you continue to support and show enthusiasm with this story._

_leave any comments or theories or anything! I love reading what you all have to say. _


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